Operation Blood
by Numbuh six-sixtysix
Summary: The Kids Next Door encounter and assimilate a mercenary group. What will the after-effects of this momentous event be? The Lost Chapters have been reclaimed and integrated into the story. *CANCELLED DUE TO FANDOM DISASSOCIAION*
1. Introducing the Sky Mercs

**This is my first fanfic, ever, and also the first story I have written outside of exercise books. So please be nice. This story also features my O.C, try and guess which one he is. Enjoy!**

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Operation - Blood

Brother  
Leaving  
Organisation  
Orders  
Divergence

The M.E.G.A.S.H.I.P (Mega Extremely Ginormous Attack Ship Helps Infantry Placement) floated through the sky serenely, flanked by two of it's cousins, the K.O.L.O.S.S.A.L.I.N.E.R (Kwite Obnoxiously Large Oversized Super Ship Allows Landing In Nefarious Enemy Region) .The Megaship was, in comparison, a giant, easily twenty times the size of the lesser aircraft, and with far more firepower, it having numerous billiard-ball repeater cannons, as well as the two standard cannons. Their destination was obvious to all watching KND operatives. The Delightful Mansion. Just as it had been for the previous two weeks. But this time, their was to be an unscheduled stop at the KND Treehouse in the area. Sector V were going to make sure of that.

"Numbuh 2, status report." Called the leader of Sector V. "The targets are coming in on their usual flight path, Numbuh 1. Looks like they'll be stopping at Father's house again." He replied."Not if we have anything to do with it. Kids Next Door: Battle stations!" He shouted. "Numbuh 2, aim for the larger ship. That's where the commander is supposed to be. If we can take him out, we might not have to worry about the other two ships."

As the Coolbus approached the three ships in formation, the communicator squawked. "Unidentified aircraft, your current course crosses our immediate flightpath. Adjust your course by twenty degrees to avoid probable collision." Numbuh 2 ignored this. "Unidentified aircraft. Adjust you course immediately or we will open fire upon you." Again, Numbuh 2 ignored this."Unidentified vessel! This is Captain of the H.M.S Draconis! In accordance with regulations, you are now considered a hostile force. Withdraw now or kcchhh..." "Report, Numbuh 2!" "Sorry, Numbuh 1, his voice was kinda getting on my nerves, so I switched h communicator off."

"Very well, Numbuh...Waaagh!!" Screamed Nigel as a vicious explosion rocked the bus. "Evasive action!" "Numbuh 3, you al'roight?" Asked a concerned Numbuh 4. "Ooh! Dat was a pretty colour!" Replied the cute Japanese girl that he had had his eye on for some time. "Numbuh 5 don't know if that girl has ever been 'alright'." muttered a dark-skinned girl with a red cap. "Numbuh 1!"Screamed the pilot. "The main engines were taken out in that last explosion! I dunnoh if I can keep this thing in the air much longer!" "Drat!" Cursed Numbuh 1. "Kids Next Door - Abandon ship!"

Five parachutes blossomed in the sky, and drifted gently on the breeze, towards the largest ship, as the Coolbus exploded into flames overhead and crashed somewhere in the distance. On the deck of the Megaship, the five friends could see a welcoming committee waiting for them. With lots of shiny things pointed their way. Numbuh 4 said what they were all thinking; "Awww, crud!"

On the command deck of the Draconis stood a boy, perhaps ten years old, dressed in black miltary style. His long, black hair was tied back in a ponytail. His deep, blue eyes were hidden by black sunglasses. Even the sidearm he wore on his belt was a matte black design. Only the silver crucifix around his neck, and the gold ring on his finger attested to the fact that he was not merely a shadow given a face and human form. With no-one else stood on the raised platform with him, he was obviously the captain of this ship. He smiled coldly as the five captives entered the room. His superior would be impressed.

Nigel Uno froze slightly as he saw the figure on the platform. This wasn't right. Where were the Delightful Children? This kid hadn't been delightfulised, so why was he helping them? What was going on here? One of the guards noticed his reluctance to enter the command deck, and shoved him inside so violently he almost tripped and fell.

"Well, well," Said the kid on the command deck. "Surprise visitors. And who, may I ask, was stupid enough to attempt to attack my battlefleet? Hmmm?" Nigel took a step forward. And was suddenly the target for every weapon on the bridge. "Easy, people." Muttered their captor. "Let the kid speak before we blow him away." Slightly nervous thanks to his new position of centre stage, Numbuh 1 attempted his introduction. "I am Numbuh 1 of the Kids Next Door, and this is my team."

"Numbuh 2"

"Numbuh 3"

"Numbuh 4"

"Numbuh 5"

"Together, we are Sector V of the Kids Next Door." Finished Numbuh 1, eager o impress upon this new 'Captain' just how many more operatives there were in the KND. "Well, how much would the KND be willing to pay for their top five agents, hmmm? I think I see a golden business opportunity here." This from the black-clad figure. "What!" Shouted a certain short blonde, Aussie kid."You mean to tell moy that you're not givin us over t' the Delightfuls?" This outburst was greeted by a lot of filthy looks from his other KND operative. "Well, if you think they would be interested in buying you off of us... I'll be sure to bring it up at our next meeting. Now, TAKE THEM TO THE BRIG!" Came the Captain's reply.

"Belay that order!" Boomed a new voice. "Aha!" Said the Captain. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you, the Lord Admiral of all the Skies, the Supreme Commander of this Battlefleet, and more importantly my big brother! Gary. Michael. Caaaain!" This announcement was met by extreme cheering on the part of all the ships crew present. From out of the shadows appeared a slightly taller and skinnier boy, dressed in the same as his brother, but with the addition of a long, black cloak over his shoulders, and a peaked black hat, and a lack of jewellery and glasses. His hair, what they could see of it, was cut incredibly short, and was blonde, not black. His eyes were an incredibly piercing shade of sky blue.

"Darrell, Darrell, Darrell." He sighed, with a small smile. "Er, yes bro?" Replied Darrell. (For that, indeed, was the Captains name.) "You recognise a good business opportunity, when you see one, but you fail to understand that the way to the best profits lies in taking risks." "So, Gary," said Darrell, in an unappreciative tone of voice. "What do YOU propose we do with the prisoners?" "Release them." He stated simply. "What!?" Shouted Captain Darrell, aghast. "But, but, they attacked us, sir!" "That they did, Darrell. Full marks for noticing." The rest of the room sniggered. "But, I am certain it was done due to misconceptions and bad rumour that seem to follow us around. Is that not so, Numbuh 1?" "Indeed...er...Lord Admiral."

"Now, now" The Lord Admiral chided "You're not under my command, so just Gary will do fine. You! At ease people! And now you." Here he turned from the guards to his brother. "You will be in charge of today's negotiations with the Delightfuls. We will be arriving in about sixty minutes. See that you are well prepared, and are ready to drop the instant we get there. Lieutenant Faraday can have the bridge." "Fine, sir," replied Darrell sulkily "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters getting ready."

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**That is the first** **chapter sorted. Now let me see what you think of it. Go on, you know you want to.**


	2. Botched Negotiations

On the good side, I got no flames. On the bad side, I only got two reviews. Thanks go to breezy-kuki and Numbuh 770mph for them. Ah well, life goes on.

Have you noticed that when you are trying to work on something really important, but totally boring, you end up doing other stuff instead? E.G IT coursework due in tomorrow, but hellooooo next few chapters of the fanfic. At least my large fan base won't be disappointed.

Also, I recently found out somewhere that people posting on this site can, technically, be sued if they don't put up disclaimers. So, here goes. I do not own KND or anything affiliated with KND. That honour goes to Mr. Warburton. I do own, however, my Sky Mercs and anything I invent for the purposes of this fanfic. Because I am lazy/forgetful: I did not own KND when the last chapter was published, and it is doubtful I will own it when further chapters are published. I will say so here if this changes.

There, now the lawyers can't throw the book at me. Turns to lawyers you hear that! Put those really heavy books DOWN!! Now on with the fic.

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"Sir, we need your help on the command deck!" Came the vice of Lieutenant Faraday, disturbing Gary out of his reverie. For the benefit of the Delightfuls, the KND operatives had 'escaped' the Draconis fifteen minutes earlier, after agreeing to recommend to KND Moonbase that negotiating with the Sky Mercs was a good idea. His plan to increase the payment intake was working perfectly."Sir?" 'Was' being the operative word. Grumbling quietly, he slowly levered himself out of his chair, and away from his computer.

Appearing on the bridge like a ghost, he calmly said to the Lieutenant "Now what was so important that you had to get me away from the computer for it? You know I have a shedload of reports to review." "S-sorry sir," Came the terrified Lieutenant's reply. The Admiral had been trying to do those reviews for weeks now. They were starting to get to him. "But, the water pressure around the ship has been dropping steadily for the past half an hour, and Maintenance can't isolate the leak. Nothing we do seems to stop it, sir, and, well, you built this ship, so, I thought you might be able to tell us what to do?" Gary nodded gravely. "Good call, lieutenant, and I think I might just know what is causing this leak. Dial up the Captain on Comms, will you?" "Putting you through now, sir." Answered the not so terrified junior officer.

"Hi, Darrell!" Boomed Gary. "Yessir?" Came the prompt reply. The Comms screen was displaying the 'privacy' image of Darrell used for verbal only communications. This and the fact that they could hear water in the background, only served to confirm Gary's suspicions. "Darrell, would you mind turning off the shower for a moment, please?" Muted grumblings were heard through the Comms. "Sir!" Exclaimed Faraday excitedly. "The water loss has ceased, sir!"

"Yes, yes, on with your duties."Muttered Gary impatiently. "Now, Darrell, would you care to remind me what I said, on absolutely no condition, you were to do?" "Err, right bro. Well, err..." Said Darrell, stumbling over his words. "Just spit it out, I don't have all day!" Snapped Darrell's rather irritated elder brother. "You told me not to stay in the shower for more than fifteen minutes." He mumbled apologetically. "Correct, Darrell. We don't have time now, but after your meeting with the Delightfuls, you can expect a visit from the Security Chief. Understood?""Yes Gary" "Good. Now carry on with your preparations, we will arrive in about twenty minutes. Is there anything you need to know before-hand, or are you still good to go?" After a quick pause, the slightly embarrassed Captain replied.

"Gary, I know we have been over this before, but I still need to remind you that I am not comfortable with these dealings with the Delightfuls. They are just TOO perfect. They are even more Delightful than me when I want to get some money off of Mom and Dad. And you know what I am like then." Gary thought on this for a moment."You do have a point, as I have said before; there is something wrong with them. However, they are our biggest source of income to date. And it is a practically guaranteed contract renewal. Plus, all we do is ship them parts, ingredients, and the occasional special request. We even get told where to pick the stuff up from. In essence, we are just running a basic delivery service for them. With armed guards."

"Yes Gary," Started his brother, "But do you not get the idea that there is a reason there regular suppliers can't get it to them, and no other delivery service in the state would take it?"

"The Kids Next Door. I know." Parried the increasingly irritated elder brother. "But we can take them easily. Listen!" Yelled Gary before his sibling could interrupt. "Just a few more of these jobs, and we will have enough money to buy a ground base on every continent on Earth, as well as troops to man them, and machines to protect them. Not only that, but we will have an air armada that will rival the U.S Air force. We will be able to rule and defend the country that WE will create. Think about it. The single greatest nation on Earth, led by us! And all that for a few more distasteful encounters with the Delightfuls. Do you think you can manage that?" "Hell, yeah!" All Darrell's former reluctance was gone. Now he had his goal set firmly in his sights, and he wasn't about to let a creepy little feeling in the small of his back stop him from getting it.

Twenty-five minutes later, the Sky Merc negotiation team dropped out of the sky, landing right in front of the Delightful Manor. They were all dressed in matching black commando gear. Except for one. That one was Darrell. He was wearing his usual black combat trousers and boots, with sunglasses and sidearm. However, on his torso, instead of the normal black combat jacket, was a black shirt. After all, judging from the Delightfuls usual style, he was expected to at least attempt to dress formally. A door opened, creaking slowly. "The young masters are expecting you. Come this way." Announced an elderly looking butler. As the team walked inside, they could not help but admire the sheer size and wealth of the foyer. The fact that the house even had a foyer made it incredible. The grand staircase and crystal chandeliers merely insisted that the team were no longer in the ordinary world. In a way, they weren't. This was the world of the super rich, and it showed in every exquisitely placed plant and light fixture.

After successfully navigating a labyrinth of corridors, the team finally arrived at their destination. The room they were stood in was not quite as impressive as Father's study, but considering the team's idea of grandeur was having an ensuite, they were suitably impressed by the Delightful Children's office. Darrell and the Delightfuls were sat at a desk, the Delightfuls being sat on the far side from the door. This sense of familiarity was offput slight, however, by the two armed commando's stood either side of Darrell, the two stood either side of the door, and the one who had come, checked the room, and was now stood outside the door.

"Really, Darrell. Is this kind of security necessary? We are allies, after all." Came the five monotonous voices of the Children. It took all of Darrell's self control to not let the chill running down his spine turn into a visible shudder. He trusted his instincts normally, and all of them were telling him to run, screaming if necessary, away from the five Children sat in front of him, and blow his way out of their Mansion. He didn't. Instead, he sat there, and replied in a carefully controlled monotonous voice of his own. "There was an assault upon our ships earlier. The people responsible then managed to escape custody. We believe this assault resulted directly from our transporting your goods. I fear that these people, these Kids Next Door, may attempt to sabotage these negotiations. If they were to render pickup impossible, I would prefer to have some of my own Security here. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Darrell. We understand perfectly. In your position we would travel with security as well. We trust, however, that our goods were not destroyed or taken by your opponents? We would be most displeased if they had. We might have to take punitive action." The answer from the Children was both disturbing and reassuring in the extreme. Darrell wasn't sure what the Delightfuls considered 'punitive action' but that definition probably included Delightfulisation. Darrell had to fight another shiver at the thought.

"You need not be concerned. Even with the slight lapse in our security, the enemy operatives never got near your stuff. However, we are concerned as to your proximity to an enemy stronghold. Should they decide to launch an assault on our vessels, we would not know until it was too late. Also, we might mistake an innocent vessel for an enemy, and mistakenly induce combat. However, we will not act against the Kids Next Door without your confirmation.'

"Very well Darrell. You have our permission to assault and destroy the KND treehouse in the area. In fact, that is a vital clause in your new contract. Without its fulfilment, you shall not be paid. With regards to your payment...?" "The usual will suffice. Although, since you are requesting direct militant action against an enemy, we will require damages. We will inform you of these charges after the operation, however." Darrell replied, suddenly shocked at the realisation that he had accidently led the Delightfuls to this decision. 'What the hell was I thinking?' he mentally groaned. As much as he liked combat, he realised that more combat cost more money, and more costs meant more time before he could declare himself joint overlord of his very own country. Plus Gary would eat him alive if he found out. He made a mental note to find out just how much these guards were paying attention to the meeting. Standing up, he said "If that is all, Delightfuls, my men and I would like to plan our assault on the treehouse. Any data you could transmit to the ship would be greatly appreciated." With a nod from the five siblings opposite him, he turned round and left the room, promptly followed by his troops.

Back on board the H.M.S Draconis, the Lord Admiral asked if there were any unexpected developments in the negotiations. Secure in his knowledge that the guards were happy with their new promotions, Captain Darrell replied "Yes, one thing that was totally unexpected came up in the negotiations. They want us to take out the KND presence in the area. As such, I told them that our payment would have to include damages. However, when faced with this request, they made the destruction of the KND treehouse a requirement of our contract. They say we won't get paid if that clause isn't fulfilled. Are we going to do the regular insurance scam on them?"

This caused Gary to stop. The Delightfuls had ordered them to move against the KND a lot sooner than he had anticipated. Numbuh 1 still hadn't had time to convince the Moonbase that the Sky Mercs could be valuable allies instead of dangerous enemies. This could be worked to their advantage, though. It was a risky plan, with plenty of potential to backfire. Then again, it could also be worked to their advantage both ways. Not to mention it was the only plan they had. He decided to proceed with it, but not let anyone know. If this didn't work one way, he could now still say that he had planned for that to happen. If both acceptable avenues of escape failed, then he would have failed as their leader.

"Erm...Gary? What are we going to do? Gary!!" Darrell's final yell pierced through Gary's reverie, and caused his revered leader to respond. "Darrell, we are going to attack the tree house. Prepare the troops. I want the captured operatives to be held in their briefing room. I will inspect them before they are transported to the Mansion. Understood?" "Yessir." "Go to it, soldier." Darrell saluted smartly, about turned, and marched off towards the briefing rooms. He could just barely suppress a smile. Gary didn't bother to suppress his. He knew more than anyone how evil his brother was when it came to combat. Not quite as good an offensive tactician as Gary, perhaps, but he more than made up for it with his skill in battle. And the fact that he enjoyed a good fight just made him even more evil. Those KND people did not stand a chance.

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please review. In case you didn't notice, I have very few reviews.


	3. Treehouse Assault

"Okay, people, everyone clear on the battle plan?" Said a person in full combat body armor.  
"Erm, actually, Darrell, do you think I could hear that again?" said one of the armor clad commandos seated in the hall. "Okay, just for you, Dave we all get to hear the battle plan again. First, the Pheonix and the Roc will form up on the tree house, at a right angle to each other. This way, they won't hit each other when they open fire. While they are distracting the defense grid, the Draconis will take up a position above the treehouse. At my signal, the two side-ships will cease fire, and we will drop into the Draconis in the area's where the KND operatives are most likely to be, as well as the breifing room and power generator. We then disrupt their power supply and subdue them. Should we encounter any problems, the Draconis will be standing by to offer reinforcements. The two side-ships will not be called upon to demolish the treehouse without my prior authorisation. Do you finally understad, Dave?" "Umm, yeah boss." "Good. We will commence the assault in five minutes. Everyone to their assigned drop pods, please."

In the treehouse, all the operatives were scattered about, doing their own thing, as was normal when there were no missions or mission preparations to be done.

"Ah wish ah had some decent opponents ah could whupp." Moaned Numbuh 4 whilst trashing yet another wrestling robot. With that, a series of explosions rocked the treehouse.  
Outside, the pummeling continued until scans indicated that the lateral strength of the treehouse was almost completely gone. Then, quickly, a series of drop pods fell from the Draconis and landed in the designated locations inside the treehouse.

In the power core, the hamsters were happily running on their treadmills, when, suddenly,  
a large subway carriage smashed through the ceiling. Upon seeing this, all the hamsters got ready to attack whatever enemy decided to come out. The doors opened slightly, and a few small black canisters rolled out. The hamsters quickly took these strange food pellets, and decided to eat them later. As the first hamsters were reaching the canisters, the exploded,  
releasing a sleeping gas mix that knocked out all the hamsters in the room. After this, the carriage doors opened fully, to reveal a large number of black clad, armoured storm troopers. They promptly placed all the hamsters into cages, and proceeded to secure the area.

In the briefing room, the troopers landed and found themselves unopposed. Leaving a few behind to secure the room, the others all immediately went to the podium, and jumped down the elevator to Numbuh 1's room.  
In Numbuh 1's room, they found an exhausted Numbuh 1 asleep in bed. Disappointed as they were at the prospect of not subduing him, they decided to shoot him with a few tranquilisers and tied him up, thus leaving him no chance of waking up without the antidote, and no means of escaping even if he got it.Then they moved him back up the elevator to the briefing room. 1 down, four to go.

In her room, Numbuh 5 was readfing a magasine whilst listening to her music. As such, she was surprised when she looked up to find her room was full of people in black, all pointing weapons of some sort at her. As good as she was, she knew she was most definitely out matched by the sheer number of people pointing things at her. Instead of striking out at the invaders, and being blasted to next Tuesday for her pains (which would have been agonising) she did the smart thing and went with them quietly.

Numbuh 3 was having a tea party with her Rainbow Monkeys when there was a large crash from outside her room. When she went outside to see what it was, she found a large number of people in black uniforms stood in the corridor."Oh, Hi!" She said. "Did Mister Huggums invite you to my teaparty?" Whilst the senior officer was taken aback by this, one operative decided to take her helmet off and reply "Yes, Kuki. Mister Huggums asked us to bring a very special drink to your tea party. Would you like some?" She held out a small glass vial. "Umm, Okie!" Shouted Kuki.  
She quickly took the vial and had a quick sip of it to see what it was like...and promptly blacked out."You know," said the senior operative, "One has to wonder how exactly she got into the Kids Next Door." Before moving her to the briefing room, he couldn't help but grin at how easily she had been defeated.

In the breifing room, Darrell watched as his troops brought the team to him. Numbuh 1 was still asleep. Numbuh 2 had been found, out cold, in the kitchens, thanks to the unexploded shell that they had found nearby. The troops were still trying to bring him up the stairs. Numbuh 3 hadn't woken up from the concentrated sleeping draught she had been given. And Numbuh 5 was sat in a corner, happy to keep quiet so long as she could keep her headphones. But what was taking them so long with Numbuh 4? "Team 4, report!" No answer. "Team 4!" Nothing. "Lieutenant, inform the Lord Admiral that it is safe to come to the brefing room. Then take your team and ascertain the situation in sector four." "Understood, sir." The Lieutenant then left the room.

Shortly afterwards, the Lord Admiral walked into theroom. "Report, Darrell." "Well, sir, most of the treehouse has been secured. Numbuhs 1, 2, 3, and 5 were captured with minimal fuss, and no casualties.  
However, we have lost contact with Team 4. I have sent a Lieutenant and his men to investigate, and expect a report any second. As you can see, none of the captured operatives have woken up yet, and Numbuh 5 actually fell asleep whilst tied up." "Good, that is very good. But-" Just then Gary was interrupted by the radio.

"Captain, we have arrived in sector four. Team 4 have been defeated and are scattered all over the place.  
Their weapons have been removed, and their is no sign of Numbuh 4. Shall we-" klunk. "Lieutenant!  
Report! Lieutenant!" Here Darrell turned to his brother. "Sir, I think that Numbuh 4 just found the Lieutenant." "Very well. Draconis! Ready drop teams for sector four!" He ordered. "Actually, Gary,  
I was thinking. I would rather like to take this Numbuh 4 myself. If you don't mind"  
By way of reply, Gary spoke into his radio "Draconis! Stand down drop teams. Repeat, stand down"  
Darrell smiled and headed off into the treehouse.


	4. Single Combat

**Sorry for the delay, exam season got in my way. Now it is over, I have unofficially left school! Problem is, I work best on the story when I am supposed to be working on something else. Future delays to be expected. Enjoy!**

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As Darrell walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but notice the evidence of a running battle down the hallway.  
For example, here were some burn marks that could only have come from a S.C.A.M.P.P, and here were some mustard patches from a M.U.S.K.E.T, and all over the place were gumballs from Numbuh 4's favourite weapon, the G.U.M.Z.O.O.K.A. But the most obvious evidence of the ferocious battle that must have raged here only a short while ago were the unconscious storm troopers who were strewn about the area. The surprising thing was that there were some members of team 4 here, clearly attempting to make it to the Briefing Room before they were taken out.  
It would seem, he thought, that this Numbuh Four was an expert tactician, for he had disabled all of the comm systems on the troopers' headsets.

As he progressed, Darrell became more and more cautious. If he wasn't careful, Numbuh 4 would neutralise him with the same efficiency with which he had neutralised the other troopers that he had encountered. An embarrassing situation to be rescued from, if ever there was one.It was also a situation Darrell planned to avoid.  
As Darrell turned a corner, he was met with a hail of gumballs. Quickly ducking back around the corner, Darrell drew his own weapon, a B.O.L.T.E.R (Blasting Own Lightning Terminates Enemy Resistance), and started to return fire. The small but powerful handgun bucked as 200 volts coursed towards their target. A target which, at just the crucial moment, stopped firing and ducked behind a door.

Darrell, noting the effect this blast had on the door, figured out that a few more hits from his BOLTER should be enough to destroy the door.As such, Darrell quickly blasted the door twice more, disintegrating it. With his cover gone, Numbuh 4 had no choice but to retreat into his room, where, unfortunately for Darrell, he had prepared a few surprises since the original interlopers had fled.

Entering Numbuh 4's room, Darrell immediately noticed the subway carriage in the middle of 4's boxing ring. The scary thing was the knot of unconscious troopers in the middle of it, and the trail of unconscious troopers leading from it. Obviously this Numbuh 4 was not to be underestimated. As Darrell was standing there, taking in the sight of violence that surrounded him, he spotted something moving amid the mess. Several somethings, in fact. These things were clearly Numbuh 4's famous wrestling robots. What Darrell didn't know, was that these 'bots had had their setting changed from 'rough and tumble' to 'seriously - major ouchies'. In this case, what he didn't know actually could hurt him.

Seeing the robots coming towards him, and with no doubt as to their intentions, Darrell immediately started blasting. Unfortunately for him, the electrical charge caused the robots to overload, increasing their speed tenfold. The robots blurred as they sped towards Darrell, and smashed his gun into innumerable pieces. Unfazed, he jumped back and drew his spare weapon. A glue gun. With it, he managed to disable one of the robots, but then a precise blast of gumballs destroyed his glue gun.

Thinking that, since thee were wrestling bots, and they were now well within wrestling range, he had best start getting medieval on them, Darrell withdrew his second favourite handheld weapons combination. Two rounders bats. After all, they are heavy, and you hit stuff with them. What more do you want from a weapon? With those two pieces of nice solid oak in hand, Darrell became a whirl of destruction, smashing a head here, crushing a hand there, and breaking an arm somewhere else. At least, until the remaining bots wrested the bats from his grip.

At this point, there were only three bots left, and Darrell was dodging pot shots from 4. Quite literally... Numbuh 4 was launching plant pots at him. Darrell was smiling to himself. He hadn't had this much fun in years. Not even a good wrestling match with Gary could beat this. Here he was, taking on three wrestling robots on an obviously dangerously high setting, and a ranged Numbuh 4, and not one of them could touch him. Then again, the combined defense of the three bots meant he couldn't get hold of them long enough to break them, and Numbuh 4 was staying well out of grabbing range. It was a stalemate that was soon to be broken.

"Captain! Have you taken care of 4 yet?" Came a voice from Darrell's comms. "Look, I'm a bit busy here!" Shouted an entangled Darrell "I'll tell you later!" "It's just that, Kitchens want to know what you want for lunch." Darrell groaned. Why could he not ever have a decent fight without being interrupted? "Tell them, tuna salad, and put it in the cooler, cos I'll be a bit late. Now bugger off!!" Darrell didn't hear, or chose not to, the unappreciative muttering coming from the comm link.

This wasn't much of a distraction, but it was enough for the robots to pin Darrell. "Ha! Now I've got you, you cruddy Merk!  
Ah knew a bunch of creeps calling themselves flying cars couldn't be that good. And I was right. I mean, a girl could fight better than you jerks." Numbuh 4 continued with his insulting victory speech, not noticing the effect his words were having on the increasingly enraged Captain.

"So now you know, if you're stupid enough ta..." At this point, Darrell exploded from beneat the robots, flinging all three of them on top of Numbuh 4, cutting off his words. "Don't you evaah. Insult. My. Techniques. EVAAAH!" Screamed Darrell.  
It was a scream that could be heard all through the treehouse, and attracted the attention of the Admiral.

"Lieutenant! Send some men to secure Numbuh 4, and to restrain the Captain. He appears to have lost his temper." The Lieutenant paled visibly. The last time Darrell had lost his temper, the fleet had had four ships. But, to be fair, the Commander of that ship had been a real jerk. Although getting keelhauled and then being crashed into an icecap, with a multi-ton ship on top of him,  
it had to be admitted, was just a little harsh.

After a brief delay, the Lieutenant complied with his Admiral's orders. But, to be on the safe side, he sent the troopers with extra protective gear. And tranquilisers. No point in being subtle, thought the Lieutenant, that boy can be a real Hulkenstein if you peeve him off.

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**How did you like that? R+R please!**


	5. Unhappy Union

**Here be the next installment of Op. BLOOD. Hope you enjoy.**

"Okay." Stated Numbuh 362 heavily. "You release Numbuhs 1 through 5 of Sector V, and you will receive immediate KND membership, you will not be broken up as a group, and the Kids Next Door will provide protection should the DCFDTL ever decide to exact some measure of revenge. Is that good enough?"

All around the world, Kids Next Door operatives held their breath. The Sky Mercs answer would either make or break over three weeks worth of negotiations. If they disagreed, the KND would be forced to initiate all out open warfare against the Sky Mercs to recover the captured agents. But if they agreed, the KND would be open to a major breach of security. Decisions, decisions.

On the comms screen, Lord Admiral Gary, of the Sky Mercs Battlefleet, onboard a temporary KND Skybase, built specifically for these negotations, looked gravely at the Supreme Commander of the Kids Next Door. Could he really swallow his pride and let himself be bossed around by a younger person? By a girl? Then again, could he really allow the Delightfulisation of five innocent kids? Or worse, aid in the Delightfulisation of five kids, and risk getting turned himself? It was a disagreeable situation.  
Either way could mean the destruction of all that he had worked for over the past few years.But, when he thought about it, Gary realised that their was really only one choice for him to make.

"I, Gary Michael Cain, on behalf of all the Sky Mercs..." Here he almost smiled. The tension had been cranked up almost to breaking point. People had their hands on the weapons. The advisors were sweating enough to start a river. The people in the room with him were holding their breath so hard the windows were starting to bend inwards. "Accept your offer." He finished.

The watching people all breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over. Some kids even started to cheer as the missing Numbuhs were led into the room. "Listen," Said Gary to Numbuh 1 "That was just business, okay? Nothing personal, just business. So, no hard feelings, right?" Gary was anxious to try and improve the relations between the Sky Mercs and Sector V.

"Well.." Started Numbuh 1 angrily, but he stopped at a glare from 362. "No. No hard feelings"  
"Good. Now that that's sorted, we need to set you up as KND operatives." Said 362 with false cheeriness. "You know, issue you with numbuh's, upload your blueprints into the SuperComputer, that sort of thing. Oh, and we need to check you can all pass basic training. Look, I don't mean to say you aren't well trained." She said just as Gary started to look highly offended."It's just procedure, is all. This is extremely irregular as it is, and if we don't keep as close to the book as possible, there are going to be questions about the validity of your membership. Okay?" Gary gave her a look. "Just cos I understand the need for it, does not mean I am happy with it." Numbuh 362 looked confused. "I guess, I can take that as an O.K." She said to herself. "Right, you can go. Expect Numbuh 60 and his commisiioning team first thing in the morning. Dismissed" "Yes..." Numbuh 362 looked expectantly at Gary. He was really going to hate having to say this, but say it he must. "..sir"  
Then he left, to prepare for the grilling that was going to come tomorrow.

6:00 a.m the following morning

"Where are they?"Said an outraged Patton, aka Numbuh 60."I have been banging on this door for fifteen minutes and no-one has answered! My cadets would be fined a weeks candy rations if they ever were this lax about security!" The door opened just as he was saying that.  
"Well, it is a good thing we are not your cadets, isn't it?" Said Darrell. " And before you start lecturing me on security procedures, Gary gave the night-shift the night off, so they could be ready for todays grilling. And there are two reasons noone answered the door. First is that noone except me gets up this early. I just love that early morning feeling. And the other reason noone came to the door is that there is a doorbell for a reason. I only heard you cos I was doing a last minute inspection of the ship."

"Right. Take me to your leader." Muttered a slightly redfaced Patton. At this, all of Patton's team burst out laughing. Patton smacked himself in the forehead and groaned. Holding back a smile, Darrell said "As, I said before, noone gets up this early. But I shouted at them over the comms,so they aught to get up in the next half hour or so. Whilst we are waiting, why don't I show you around?" "Ugh. I don't really have much choice, do I? It's either that or sit around until they are up, so I think we will see your ship"  
Replied Numbuh 60. "Kay. Well, welcome to the H.M.S Draconis!" Boomed Darrell grandly. "Ummm, question!" Piped up one of the cmmissioning team. "Shoot." "Why is it H.M.S? All of the ships I know are S.S." "Well," Answered Darrell, "H.M.S is a British thing, and my brother and I are from Britain, as are most of our crew. So our ships gets the H.M.S and not the S.S. No problems with that. Right?" That last question in such a threatening voice that noone would have said yes even if there was a problem.  
"So moving along, we'll start with the working rooms, I think."

"Okay, this is the bridge, or command deck. Whichever suits you best. Although, technicall, the command deck is that raised bit there, where the Captain stands." They were stood in a large room, that looked somewhat like a cross between NASA Mission Control and the bridge of the Enterprise. At the front of the room was a large, floor to ceiling tinted window.  
This, plus the large banks of computers arranged around the room, gave the impression of a gothic Bomber Command.  
"Umm, right. Did you let your teen sister paint this or what?" Came a voice from the team. "I mean, where is all the colour"  
"Good question. Due to the fact that we had to pay for this ourselves, and that black was the cheapest paint going, we decided to save the colour for the recreational areas." Patton nodded in agreement. It made perfect sense. "Now, on to the power core."

The power core was a large room filled with blue light. It was lue, and felt small because of the large electron towers in the center of the room. Crawling up these towers were innumerable blue sparks. "Now be careful. These things can churn out a gazillion volts an hour, and while they are walled in by plastic, the air in here gets very staticky. You can gett really shocked in here." Announced tour guide Darrell. "You don't say." Came the response from a socket-haired comissioning team.  
"Ahh. Ummm, moving swiftly on."

"Here is the engine room. Before you ask, it is also our waste disposal system, so that is what the smell is. In fact, we don't need any fuel, because the waste is plenty enough for the three main ships, and what we put in the fighters can't really be called fuel." They were stood in a room that had a skip to one side of it. The skip was full of filthy, stinking mulch, which came out of a chute, and was obviously on hydraulics. Next to the skip was the furnace that powered the engines. And all through the room was the stink of decomposing and burning rubbish. "Now, some of you may have noticed that we had to go through a plastic chamber to get in here. When we go back out, it will seal shut and fill with air freshener. This is perfectly normal procedure for exiting the engine room. My brother and I decided on this after a meeting with the three Chief Engine Supervisors. It was, fragrant, to say the least." As the freshener filled the room, a scream rang out "My eyes!". Darrell grimaced mentally before deciding on a tour of the medical facilities.

In what was obviously a traditional hospital ward, a cheerful, if clearly recently awakened nurse was working on one person's sore eyes, whilst Darrell showed the remainder of the tour group around the facility. "Here is the ward, where patients recover from illness and other such things. Through those double doors are the clean rooms, which house the severe illness and injury units, and through that plain door to your left is the on call room. Just in case you hadn't noticed, this section is the only working room not painted black or crimson. Unfortunately, due to the fact that we don't have a senior medical officer present, and I am unsure as to the disinfection procedures, I am afraid I can not offer you an immediate tour of those facilities.  
Should anyone require access to them, they should inform the medical staff, who will only be too glad to take you on tour. Questions?" "Yes, why is this so small? If there was a major epidemic, you would be severely overcrowded." This from the medical expert on the team. "Damn, you people don't miss a trick. Yes you are correct. This ward would be overcrowded. However, that lift over there leads to the other wards, and only to the other wards. If these wards were unable to cope with the ill, we would attempt to return to base for immediate grounding. Should that prove impossible, each cabin fulfils the requirements for an isolation unit, and should that fail, entire decks and sections of the ship can be sealed off, to prevent spreading infections. It also serves as an ideal security measure. Fortunately, these procedures have not been used outside of drills since the creation of the fleet. Now, on to the Security station, and the last of the working rooms."

The tour group were in a large room, with as many banks of computers as the bridge. The difference was, instead of a window, there were three large plasma screen displays. There were a few agents on duty, but even with the caffeine, they were currently in 'the zone' - i.e they were oblivious to everything except the can of Red Bull in their hand, the read-outs in front of them, and the clock with shift change marked on it. "I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse the current state of security, they have been up all night, and they aren't at their best.' As Darrell saw Patton open his mouth to shout, he quickly added 'Oh, and Numbuh 60, they didn't know you were banging on the door because the computer wouldn't have recognised it as a threat to security. Through the barred door to your left is the cells. Fortunately, the cells are empty at the moment, so we can go in their and check it out. But before we doo, know that the locked and secure door on your right leads to the armoury, and due to obvious security reasons, we can not go in there at the moment. So, off to the cells with you lot." He smiled. "Come on."

In the cell block, there were numerous cells on three storeys,arranged to lead off at angles from where the door was. At the end of each row of cells, on each storey, was a security station. Protruding from the wall next to the entrance was a multistorey, semi-circular security station, with full length windows so the cells could all be viewed. "This was constructed more with a view to transporting criminals as part of our job than to store our own criminals. The high security, whilst expected, is necessary because many of the criminals transported are dangerous in the extreme. An example would be the King of the Candy Pirates, who we transported last year. As you can see, there is a sally port system in place to control exit and entry. Each door can be opened only by the room it leads to. This means, if the prisoners somehow managed to take control of the prison, they would not be able to escape. Or, if their allies took control of the Security room, they would not be able to get into the prison. If, in the impossible situation that both events happened simultaneously, Security is on a seperate lockdown system to the rest of this deck, so we could still seal it from the bridge should we need to. Any questions? Good. Lets move on to the recreational rooms. First, the living quarters."

The group were stood in a Travelodge style corridor, with rooms leading off at intervals. "This is one dorm block. Ever stayed in a Travelodge?" There was a murmur of assent from the group. "Think that, but one person per room, and no maids. These blocks account for twenty-five percent of the power uptake on this ship. The interlinked personal gaming systems might have something to do with that." Darrell tailed off as they opened a door, expecting the worst. Inside was an exact replica of a Travelodge room, but with a wardrobe in the corner, and a fridge hidden under the desk. Darrell breathed a sigh of releif. "Looks like you chose an unoccupied room there. That is what you get when you join, with a variable housewarming gift from the rest of the people in your block." Thank God, thought Darrell, that they chose an empty room. Some of us really need those maids. Now we can move on to a less risky area.

"Because of the time it now is, most of these area's will be more or less deserted, as the night shift will be in bed, and the day shift will be at work. The evening shift usually use the arcades roundabout now, so we will leave those for a bit. Here we are in the cafeteria, obviously. It is quite an extensive facility, as you can see, with multiple storeys, this being the main one. However, there are numerous refreshment areas all over the ship. I doubt there are any questions, but I have to ask."  
"Umm, well, yes actually." Piped up an anonymous voice. "I couldn't help but notice that your lunches and dinners include quite a lot of veg, including broccoli and sprouts. You do know the KND position on this?" "Look, we have been serving veg for years. The only problems we have encountered is an unusual tendancy to keep our rooms relatively tidy most of the time. Thats not really a problem, especially if the room is already fairly tidy when you start. So we won't be changing the menu anytime soon. Next. No? Right, moving on."

"Here is the District, as it is known. Basically, it is a small area of the ship, which covers every kind of entertainment known to kid-kind. The actual establishments are privately owned, but they must meet strict guidelines, and are inspected to ensure they meet those standards. Actually, these weren't part of the original ship designs, but we had space left over on the ships, and this way we make money out of rent." They were stood in a two tier high street-like area, with lots of neon lights to illuminate a perminant Vegas-nights feel. "If you will come this way, we will come to the Merc owned arcades."

The arcades were exactly that. Arcades. But bigger, and with more games than collected in any other location in the world.  
"This is the largest arcade in the world. We keep it up to date thanks to a special contract we have with Namco, Capcom, Sega and the other major games producers. This arcade is a major source of income for us. The amount of money made here in the first few weeks after a home stop is enough to pay all the kids here for a month, and keep them in candy rations too. It's funny really. We are paying these kids with teir own pocket money, and buying their candy with it too." "That is monstrous!" Came an outraged voice." "No" Replied Darrell, "It is good business. Besides, they know what they are using their money for when they spend it.  
Well, that's all the major facilities covered. If you want a more detailed tour, Gary will be happy to arrange it. I think most of the ship's crew aught to be up and about by now, so feel free to start with your enquiries."

Upon hearing this, Numbuh 60's commissioning team dispersed. However, Numbuh 60 stayed behind. "Well, Darrell, seeing as you are here, I might as well start with you. How long have you been working on board now?  
"Three years"  
"And what is your role here"  
"Well, I am second in command in the fleet. As such, I get the role of Captain on our main ship, the Draconis. I also get the tasks Gary can't, or won't do, such as negotiating with the Delightfuls"  
"And what is your speciality"  
"Combat, specifically melee. And I am defensive tactician"  
"Why did you join up"  
"My brother was doing it"  
"So, would you say your crew is as loyal to your brother as you are"  
"Yes"  
"Okay. But what about your training"  
"We took down Sector V. That was due to my planning. I was the one who took out Numbuh 4. Singlehanded."  
"Fair enough. What Numbuh do you want"  
"13"  
"Taken"  
"666"  
"Done. Welcome to the Kids Next Door, Numbuh 666." Both kids could not help but think that this little relationship would not end well for any of those involved.

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**Sorry not much happens in this chapter, but I felt the ships in the fleet needed to become more real to the reader. Anyway, R+R please!**


	6. Signs of Rebellion

Here we have a reconstituted version of the old chapter, with added Lost Chapter style. Enjoy.

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Three years had passed since the Mercs had joined the KND. They had, at first, been more of an organisation within an organisation. But then Gary came down with a mystery illness that erased much of his childhood memory. The Med-Labs were baffled. They had identified the problem as being specific neurones in his brain had been shut down. The Lab had been working on a cure, but so far, they could only deliver shocks to the entire brain, which, whilst reactivating the neurones was guaranteed, it would also burn out all of his other ones. In effect, he would get all his childhood memories back, but be reduced to a vegetable.

Shortly after Gary's incapacitation, the KND Global Command started messing about with the Mercs. First to go was the position of Supreme Commander of the Fleet/ Lord Admiral of all the Skies. It got renamed Fleet Admiral. Then the uniform for that position got changed. Apparently only the Soopreme Commander is allowed a cloak. And the peaked hat went too, probably just so they could show Darrell who was boss. Then Darrell noticed that more and more of his Mercs were getting hit with the bug. Those who were left were loyal to Darrell, as they were to his brother, but he was having to win over the new recruits, and prove himself to them more and more.

Still, it wasn't all bad. The fleet had been bolstered by KND resources, allowing them to have an additional three Kolossaliner's, the Griffon, the Wyvern and the Pheng. Although whether it was worth the loss of so many fine troopers, Darrell could not decide. Until now that is. For what Darrell had just found was so repulsive, that he was sure that it had to be a hoax.

It was an email, with the Lord Admiral's signature, and a delay system set from two years ago. It read:

_Darrell,  
if you are reading this, then I have fallen prey to the main risk in my gamble for our fortune. Chances are that I have forgotten all of our adventures together. If this is so, then be warned; the same fate awaits you at the age of thirteen. Because then the KND use a 'decommissioning' device to erase specific memories. Unfortunately, I know of no way to reverse the process. This means that I must pass the leadership of the Sky Mercs to you. However, I must warn you not to trust this KND. They are traitors by nature, and it has become so natural, they forget that they are even doing it. They did not even mention that all operatives are ultimately betrayed by the very organisation they sought so valiantly to protect. Not even we were informed of this prior to our inauguration. I only found out when my contact within HQ was decommissioned. I have sent you this message now because I knew that, with a Cain at the helm, the Battle fleet would stay together, and the Mercs would be true to my original purpose. However, should you be removed, and with, doubtless, a tide of KND trained operatives working itself into your ranks, the Armada would merely become an addition to an already formidable fleet, and the Mercs would become a mere footnote in the annals of kid history. I shall not let the last refuge of kid-kind against Grandfather be dissolved by some upstart maintenance team. I can not, in good faith, retire with the knowledge that the conquerors of the Candy Pirate Covenant will soon be erased from the world. With this in mind, I must ask that you simply split from the KND, activate our base defences, and retreat to there until the KND can be made to see sense. Whatever you do, I beg of you, do not allow yourself to be separated from your Security team, and do not relinquish you weapons. But above all else, you must ensure the continued survival of the Sky Mercenaries. This, my brother, is all that I ask from you. Apart from, your knowledge that, whatever happens, I will be proud to know that my brother has led the Sky Mercs in what could be their finest hour._

If he was honest, Darrell knew, in his heart of hearts, that Gary really _did_ write this. It was written in such a 'Gary' style, that it could only truly belong to him. And the scans all indicated that it was highly likely to be accurate. "Lieutenant Faraday." Said Darrell into the comms. "Sorry, sir, the Lieutenant came down with the Amnesia. I'm his brother, Corporal Faraday."  
"Sorry to hear it, Corporal. He was a good officer."  
"Thank you." Came the heartfelt reply. "Er, you called, sir?"  
"Yes. I did. I have an announcement to make. Inform the crew that there will be a meeting in the Grand Hall next week. Attendance will be mandatory. Then come back so we can make the necessary preparations."  
As the Corporal left the room, he couldn't help but notice a menace-filled smile on the Admiral's face.

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So, how do you like that? How does Darrell plan to get revenge? And what exactly is he going to say in the meeting? Find out after you review! Go on, they've got a new, shiny review button for you to click....


	7. The Leader's Skills

This is one of the Lost Chapters, in it's pure form. Considering they were written last year, and I can still publish them, with very little editing of either the Lost Chapters or the current story, it would seem that I have not written all that much for a while. Sorry about that.

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"Hey, do you know what this meeting is about?" asked a Private. "No. No I don't. Only the Senior Command Staff have been told. Now, will you please bugger off to your own seat?" Snapped Corporal Faraday. He had been slightly annoyed ever since his brother, the Lieutenant, had come home with the amnesia that seemed to be affecting the older kids. Now, he was hoping, Command would be announcing that the R+D people had figured out what caused it and how to reverse it.

As Darrell came up onto the platform at the front of the meeting hall, a rumble of applause rolled around the room like thunder. No cheering though. That honour had yet to be earned. There was also a muttering of surprise, for Darrell was wearing the Lord Admiral's peaked hat and cloak.

"Fellow troopers! I come before you today to tell you: We have been betrayed! How many of you have heard of Decomissioning?" No hands went up, and no voices yelled out. "And yet, already many of our number have been Decomissioned by our lord and masters, the KND! My brother, the First Lord Admiral, may have joined us with the KND, but this latest betrayal is yet another reason for me to undo his terrible mistake!" Each of Darrell's statements was being met with a growing chorus of agreement. "Why must we protect and serve the Kids Next Door, if they fail to tell us that at the age of thirteen, we will be removed from duty, and forcibly stripped of all our memories of our time as troopers, operatives, or enemies of the Kids. But I say; Nay. We shall not give up our time as troopers of the cause so easily! We must withdraw our membership of the Kids Next Door! And when their pathetic Command tries to Decomission us, we shall strike with the fury of a thousand avenging Dragons! Do this, not for the memory of my brother! Not for the Cause! Do this, for your own memory of our times together! Do this so that we can look back on our time and say 'I remember that!' Together, we shall make the Kids Next Door rue the day they decided to trick us out of our rightful place onboard our ships! Are you with me? I say are you with me?!" The response almost blew out the windows. "Then I say, we hall remove the Kids Next Dead from their ill-gained position above us, and we shall spread our wings above this land, and rule like never before!"  
"Da-rrell! Da-rrell!" Chanted the crowd, and then Corporal Faraday shouted "When do we do away with our false leaders?" This question, totally unexpected by the crowd, caused an almost total silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and in fact did when a Security person cocked his weapon at the 'troublemaker'. Darrell quickly waved him to stand down. "Soon, Corporal. All our lost brothers and sisters shall be avenged soon. But for now, we must keep up the facade of obedience to our false masters. When the time is right, we shall give them cause to regret their lack of worth."

As Darrell walked back off the stage, it was all he could do to suppress a smile. He had just employed the oldest trick in the book. He had just successfully taken advantage of group mentality to reach the decision he wanted. Darrell had organised it so that small groups of 'yes' men had been stationed around the auditorium. This meant that no one in the hall was any more than five seats away from three or more people who already knew what was going on, and knew exactly where to agree. And Corporal Faraday and that guard had played their roles perfectly.

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Considering I get less hits than than the fat guy who forgot to shower at the speed dating thing, I'm not expecting too many reviews. Do feel free to exceed my expectations though.


	8. Vengeance on the Moon

And here we are with the last of the Lost Chapters. I won't be updating for a while, so that I can see if my older, but better, writing style elicits some sort of response.

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"Numbuh 666!" Shouted Numbuh 362 urgently over the comm system. "Get down to Egypt immediately! Priority one! Father is there, and he is destroying the Egyptian KND!"  
"Very well 362, sir, the Rats are on it."

The clouds flew by the ships, as they ploughed their way onwards toward the bountiful land of Egypt. As the Sphinx vanished into the distance, the ships slowed considerably. "Okay, Corporal, start scanning. The Ancient Egyptians were famously barbaric schoolmasters, and apparently Father is attempting to find what their secret was. Supposedly, there is an ancient schoolground hidden under the sands somewhere round here." Suddenly, a large ball of fire erupted from the sands below them. "Scratch that, Corporal. I think we just found him. Okay. Start releasing drop pods at regular intervals. And order the other ships to deploy all their ground troops immediately. Has my brigade been equipped with the special weapons?" "Yes, Lord Admiral." "Shush! I am still Numbuh 666! And if you don't remember that, I won't get any further than that! Now, I'll be dropping in five minutes. Make sure my brigade is ready."

In the cavern system fifty feet under the sands of the Egyptian desert, a fierce battle raged between the cornered KND operatives and the Teen Ninjas. "Come on!" Shouted Cree. "As soon as we get rid of these brats, we can catch up with Father, and find out how to control them for good!" Just then, a battered Ninja ran up to her. "Cree, we ain't gonna do fer these kids if'n we don't get no more dudes to help us." After a few seconds, in which Cree looked over their situation, she spoke into her communicator to Father. "Father, we need more Ninjas if we are to contain the situatOUCH!!!" This last bit was probably due to the hail of billiard balls that had blasted her communicator into oblivion.

"And instead, you get more Operatives. Aren't you lucky?" Exclaimed Corporal Faraday, as he piled out of the subway carriage, at the head of a small force of commandos.

_Some Time Later..._  
As the Battlefeet approached the Moonbase, the Draconis opened communications.  
"Numbuh 362! This is Numbuh 666! I am afraid I must request an official meeting."  
"Very well Numbuh 666. Landing area 13 is free. Let's get this one over with quickly."  
After the screen went blank, Darrell said to his handpicked team of specialists "Okay people, we all want to get this done quickly and efficiently. If there are any last minute doubts, now is the time to voice them....No? Very well. Corporal Faraday, you will now pilot the Draconis in to landing area 13. The rest of the fleet is to retire to two hundred yards, and on my signal, open fire upon any vessels attempting to approach or leave the Moonbase, excepting the Draconis, of course. Let's go, people!"

After a successful landing, Darrell was stood in the office of the Soopreme Leader of the KND, explaining his desire to leave. "I see, Darrell." Said the stern-faced girl slowly. "And does your entire group feel this way?" "Everyone agrees that we must leave the Kids Next Door." "Well then, I am afraid I must ask Numbuh 86 in here to decommission you all." Replied 362. "I am sorry to hear that, Rachel," Countered Darrell, with an evil smirk on his face. "Because it means I am going to have to do this." As he said that, several things happened. First, the power went out, causing everyone to jump. Then, strategically placed troopers neutralised all the KND operatives in the Command Center, and in the Security Center. And after that, the speaker system came back online, and started playing recorded screams. This spread panic and confusion throughout the KND Moonbase, ensuring that the newly reformed Sky Mercs could wander about the base unopposed.

"What have you done?" Asked the surprised leader in a threatening tone. "Simple," Replied Darrell "We, the Sky Mercenaries, have decided to exact our revenge on the Kids Next Door for the injustices you have committed against our members. And who better to have revenge on, than the big boss of the entire organisation." "Hah! You seem to have forgotten that you still need to get me! I will never come with you!" Shouted Numbuh 362, in the vain hope that someone could hear her over the screams currently echoing over the comms systems. "Oh, I'm sorry." Shot Darrell, "Were you under the illusion that you had a choice in the matter?" As Darrell finished speaking, two troopers in full armour smashed through her office door. "Oh." "'Oh' indeed." Responded Darrell, as they shot her with a number of tranquilisers. The last thing she saw before her world went black, was Darrell looking at her, looking slightly uncomfortable.  
After Numbuh 362 had finished collapsing, Darrell said to the two troopers; "Right, tie her up and get her on to the Draconis." Into his commlink; "Okay people, clear it up, make your way back to the ship, and set off the skunk bombs in the air vents." With that, he placed a small, spherical object in the remains of 362's office, and walked into the darkness of the corridors. Several screams rang out. They weren't recorded.

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Anybody wishing to prove that the KND fan community isn't dead is welcome to pipe up and send me a review. Otherwise, my good freinds, the Liche Queen and the Witch King will be stepping out of Ardanian Legend to pay you a visit.


	9. Dark Whisperings

Rachel awoke slowly, and shook the fogginess from her mind. There was no time for her to be sleeping.....Well, maybe a bit more.  
Quite some time later, she woke from a horrible dream about some psychotic kid with a lot of flying boats betraying her and....and....."Oh".  
Just as quickly as it had happened, Rachel recalled what she had been through in the past, well, ten minutes before she had fallen asleep, however long ago that was. Deciding that being held captive by that 'Lord Admiral', as he called himself was not something to look forward to, Rachel immediately put her vast wealth of KND experience into attempting to escape.  
Unfortunately, being tied so tight you can't even move your head is not an easy situation to escape from. Factoring in that she was also being suspended upside down, in a small, enclosed room, with no idea as to where she was, escape was only distant hope.  
Suddenly, the front wall of the room swung outwards, revealing to her her cell was, in fact, part of a much larger room. Contrasting with the smooth whiteness of what she could see of her cell, the outer room appeared to be tiled, tiled floor, tiled walls, tiled ceiling. The only part of it that wasn't tiled was the mirror that stretched across the far wall. Doubtless, some of her captors were watching her from behind it.

Then walked into view one of her captors. Judging from his attire, he was either a military fanatic, or he was a cadet. This much she gleaned from the fact that he was wearing combat boots, camouflaged combat trousers and jacket, and had a beret. Seeing her awake, he turned, allowing her to see the regimental insignia on his beret. British Army Cadet Force. This didn't necessarily mean she was in Britain, just that these kids were not going to be falling for any of her tricks. That cruddy Darrell seems to have connections everywhere!

"Sergeant! Sir, the captive appears to be awake!"  
"Right. Well keep her bliddy well that way until the Lord Admiral arrives!"  
"Understood, sir!"

This bellowed exchange caused Rachel to moan in pain. It seemed that, whatever was in those knockout darts, actually made everything more detailed. If she had paid attention to the weapon designs that she had been supposed to read from the Mercs tech people, she would have known that the darts caused a sensory overload, resulting in a cerebral shutdown. When the target regains consciousness, it is almost always before the effects have worn off, giving them such heightened senses as to be able to tell the difference between two shades of matte black. Not that any of this would have helped, as, whilst her senses collected lots of data, her muscles could not act upon that data.

"Sir, we have received confirmation from the Cadet Force. You are expected within the hour."  
"Very good, Corporal. Prepare my personal craft. I shall be there shortly.  
As the Corporal retreated to inform the hangar crew of their task, Darrell sat in his chair and contemplated the moment his plan had been ensured. It was back on that last mission from KND Global Command. He withheld information for days, hoping that he would get his chance, then, as it seemed he would be forced to utilise someone else, the perfect opportunity had dropped into his lap.

_They were fighting under the sands of Egypt, huge numbers of Commandos and Teenz slugging it out, some spraying the battlefield from a distance, but most had joined the melee in the centre of the cavern. "Commandos! Advance!" He screamed from the middle of it all. Those words appeared to cut through whatever backbone had been supporting the Teen resistance. They broke and fled. Some just kicked up the jets and were gone, but many ran for what could only be the schoolhouse that Father had entered. "Take no prisoners!" He had screamed, manically pointing at the schoolhouse. No other instructions necessary, most of the Commandos charged in after them, whilst others took up defensive positions around the cavern. Darrell had barely had time to catch up with the rear elements of the force, when the doors of the Gym hall flew open and disgorged numerous dazed, not to mention temporarily air borne, Commandos.  
"Sorry sir. We shouldn't have rushed in without you. I'm sorry sir. We didn't stop him."  
Surprised, Darrell wheeled around to come face to face with one of the members of his Brigade. Dismissing the poor Commando from the battlefield ,he withdrew his new toy. Better than the freeze rays that his brigade had been issued with, and much more powerful. Steeling himself, Darrell walked into the Gym._

"_You fool! Your precious Commandos couldn't beat me, even with your pitiful ice guns. And you expect to stop me all by yourself? Hah!"  
"Well, Father, as there is no obvious way for me to defeat you, might I request a drink before being obliterated?"  
Eyeing the Coke can in hand Father suddenly burst into flames.  
"No, you cannot have a drink, you little brat! Do you know what that stuff does to you? In fact, I'll drink it! I'll show you what happens to an adult after drinking this, and let you imagine what it does to you kids! Now give it here!"  
With that, Father snatched the can off Darrell, and cracked the seal. What happened next was totally unexpected, at least for Father. A blue cloud emerged from the can, engulfing him. When the cloud cleared, he was encased in solid ice. Because Darrell's ploy had worked. In a fit of 'rightful' adult rage, Father had taken the S.U.B.-Z.E.R.O. (Super Unique Below Zero Enemy Restraining Object) It looked, quite simply, like a Coke can. One of the few differences was 'Baddies Served Cold' Written along the bottom. Upon opening can, Father had been encased in super strong Ice-9. Which, at least according to the tech guys, could also withstand several buh-million degrees of heat. For up to an hour. Needless to say, Father was stuck, and he knew it.  
"Now that I have a, aaah, captive audience, shall we say? I have a proposition for you, Father." Darrell leaned in close, and whispered something to the only part of Father not frozen solid, his head. Father's eyes glazed over for a second, and then he fervently agreed to Lord Admiral's plan._

Darrell was snapped out of his reverie by the comms. His ship was ready. It was time to visit his new prisoner.


	10. Of Suits and Swirlies

Quite some time later, after the Soopreme Leader of the Kids Next Door had abandoned all attempts to reason with her captors, she heard some voices from outside her field of vision.  
"Sir!"  
"Status."  
"The captive is secure, sir. We have plain clothes men patrolling the..."  
"Quiet, fool! If we reveal our location to her, she might transmit it to her friends!"  
"Sorry, sir. We have guards around the perimeter. Patrols scouring the area. This building is secure. We have also prepared the captive as you requested. The procedure is ready to begin with your order."  
"Very good, Sergeant. I will ensure the Cadet Forces and the Mercenaries maintain their.... 'special' arrangement. That will be all for now. You may return to your post."  
"Yessir."

Numbuh 362 knew exactly who had come to visit her. But the question was, what procedure had she been 'prepared' for. Rachel liked this situation less the more she found out. And the first gnawing of fear started in her gut. But she convinced herself it was just the fact that she had been upside down now for quite a while, without having eaten. It was probably just her stomach complaining.

Then, as she had expected, Numbuh 666, a.k.a the Lord Admiral of all the Skies, a.k.a Darrell Cain, entered. He had, inexplicably, changed his special ops uniform for an even less comfortable black three piece suit, with scarlet trim, and a black, woollen, thigh length greatcoat.

"Don't talk, just listen. You can ask whatever when I'm finished. You have been captured by my troops, and are completely at my mercy. Me, whose brother you stole, whose organisation you have attempted to subvert. I can do anything I want, and you are powerless to stop me. But don't worry. I spent many nights planning this moment. I won't just subject you to mindless Mexican Burns, and I'd hardly bring you here if all I wanted to do was beat you up. Oh no. I am going to destroy you completely. You and all that you've ever worked to achieve." Here Rachel noticed a boom mike swinging in over the wall of her cell, and something was being wheeled up behind Darrell. Her stomach would have turned, but it had already tied itself in knots. She also noticed an ever growing smile on his smug little face. "I shall do this, by employing the Automatic Swirly Machine. This beauty will flush you every two minutes until you break. Of course, I couldn't just drop you in an ordinary toilet. Nooo. You are in the most unclean, oldest, mouldiest toilet that a BOY's bathroom ever did spawn." Here, Darrell couldn't resist a chuckle. Her. In a boys bathroom. Genius. "That thing in your hand is the only way for you to escape this torture. It will activate the transportation device. But don't be too hasty to press it. It leads directly to Fathers' new and improved Delightfulisation chambers. Which are also activated by that button. All the knowledge of the KND. In a Delightfulised child. Hah. Certain doom for all your friends, I should think. By now, you're probably wondering two things. First is probably something along the lines of 'will he ever shut up?'" Rachel was surprised. Strangely enough, that thought _had_ crossed her mind. "Second, is probably 'why is he wearing a suit?' or something similar. And you'd be quite right to wonder that. After all, this is a private little chat, nobody here other than us, and I don't wear this stuff even for a client. Right? Wrong. This little chat, and every Swirly you get will be broadcast live over the internet, and will be freely available to view by anyone with a computer or TV set, courtesy of that webcam behind me. Now, if you'll excuse me, there is a war I must attend to. Don't keep Father waiting too long."  
And with that, Darrell swept out of the room, leaving Rachel Mackenzie alone with her fears, the now active Swirly machine and transporter, and the entire population of the planet.

Okay people. That's it. I'm writing for a ghost audience here. My stats say I'm quite popular, and I am very happy with how the story is progressing. But I am obviously not good enough a writer to elicit spending a short moment of your time telling me your opinion of my story. I may discontinue this story if this lack of communication keeps up. Do feel free to tell me what you think.


	11. 11 Tv Can Make Anyone Cry

Sorry for the extremely late update. Exam season got in the way, and I lost contact with my inspiration. Still, enjoy!

* * *

Fanny Fulbright sat and stared in horror at what the computer screen was showing her. She had found the little message ball that Darrell had left in the wreckage of her commanders office. She had gone to the website that it had told her to. And she had found out what happened to Rachel.  
"Numbuh 60. Stop the search for Numbuh 362, and come to my office. Bring Numbuh 74.239 with you." Her tone of voice, so soft, and gentle, was so unlike her normal fury that any who knew either the nerd or Patton automatically feared for them, as, surely, she could only have transcended mere rage, and entered into the realms of utter, visceral fury if she was not shouting, right?

Upon entering the room, Numbuh 74.239 and Patton were treated to a sight that they never even thought possible. The Furious Fanny Fulbright was sat back in her chair, red eyed and sniffling. "Jest, jest come an' watch this, yew two." Cautiously, they approached her desk, expecting at any moment for her to suddenly turn into the raging, boy hating monster that she normally was. Instead, when they reached her desk, she merely gestured for them to come round to her side, to see what was on her computer screen.

On the screen was a live webcast. It showed their beloved leader, Numbuh 362, suspended upside and down, and being dunked repeatedly into what seemed to be a filthy toilet. Then the camera angle changed, and they could see her head as it went in, her hair picking up peices of the scum attached to the bowl, and then, instead of cleaning it, the water coming out of the toilet actually had more filth in it. They saw her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, possibly in the vain hope that if she couldn't see it, it wasn't happening. Suddenly, it cut to a scene with two sofas and a table in between them, with a screen in the background continuing the footage.

"So, for those of you who have just joined us her at , these are our gracious hosts for the dunk-a-thon, the Delightful Children From Down The Lane."  
"Thankyou. But really, the honour is all ours. After all, this website merely used to be our views of the Kids Next Dumb, but now we have a chance to entertain people with some most....delightful video. Unfortunately, the Sky Mercenary leader, Darrell Cain, could not be with us tonight, due to expected retaliations from the KND. However, he did send us an expert psychoanalysist. Dr. Sigfreud Mond. So, Dr. Mond, what do you think our lovely victim is thinking here?"

"Well, there is a series of emotions we must go through in order to deal with highly traumatic events. First we had Anger..." Behind them, the screen cut to show an extremely irate Numbuh 362, screaming blue murder at the camera, loud enough for it to be heard clearly, even on the lowered volume. "Then we have fear...." The screen cut show Numbuh 362 just screaming, wordlessly. "This is usually quickly followed by a period of, not quite fear, but certainly apprehension. This is when the subject starts trying to beg a figure of authority for a release. Or, in this case, just release."The screen cut to show a 362, with tear streaked face and filthy, greenish hair, begging each time she came up, to be released. "Then we reach denial, which is where our subject appears to be now. After this, she should experience defiance, where she will attempt to prove us wrong, and finally acceptance. When she reaches this stage, she may or may not be able to summon the willpower to Delightfulise herself. If she cannot do this, she will just be dunked complacently until she can."

"And, Doctor, how long do you think she will last?"  
"Well, Delightfuls, that is in no way a sure thing. The time of each stage varies according to the will, and any stimuli received by, the subject. Also, at some points, she may actually be able to restart the cycle by bringing up powerful memories, or such. But, assuming that she continues through the process at the same pace as she is, I would say it would take a week or so to break her."  
"Well, thank you, Doctor. Now, finally, what do you think of the Ultimate Toilet of Horror?"  
"To be honest, I don't think it is that horrible. I mean, sure, you have scum and the assorted debris of years of use floating around in there, but leaving it up to her imagination isn't going to work on its own. You need a bit of something that she can identify, something to change in there, so that she thinks 'Oh, no! They are giving me stuff FRESH out of the toilets!' That should give her a turn . I would recommend putting vegetable soup in the cistern before the next flush. That makes a brilliant vomit substitute."  
"Oh, brilliant idea, but, well, substitute? We never use anything but the best!" The Delightfuls reached out and pressed a button, and a yellow, lumpy substance started pouring into the cistern behind Numbuh 362, from out of the shot.  
"That...isnt...?  
"Oh, we assure you, it is." A flush was heard on the speakers, suddenly louder than before, and, after, a shriek of horror.  
"Oh...glub..!" muttered the Doctor as he ran off the stage, looking decidedly green.  
"Don't worry, Doctor, we can use that!" Shouted one of the audience as he ran.  
"Well, there you have it, people. The KND has less than a week before it is destroyed by a newly Delightfulised Soopreme Leaduh. We'll see there possible reactions after more of this."  
The view cut back suddenly to Rachel Mackenzie, waiting above her toilet.

"D'you see that? Not only have they got her, b-but they're going to use _her _to dest-des-destroy the KND!"  
"Oh, er, ahem, well, Numbuh 86, I'm sure 74.239 here could trace that signal, and, well, then we can go and get her back. I mean, they've given us plenty of time to find her, and when we do, I am sure there will be more than enough Merc boys for you to shout, hey?" Said a somewhat taken aback Patton.  
"Ye, ye think we can do that?"  
Patton gave 74.239 a look.  
"Oh, um, yeah. Sure we can. It'll take a while to reconfigure the gumball drivers and chewing gum crossboards to follow an incoming signal, but, well sure. With plenty of time left over."  
"Well, go do it!"  
As the two boys were about to leave , they heard a more familiar voice.  
"Oh, and if either o' yew two boys tell anyone what just happened, I will SEND THE PAIR OF YOU INTO THE MIDDLE OF A COOTIE INFESTED TEENS CLUB, AND LOCK YOU IN TIL YEW BOTH TURN INTO GIRLS! NOW GO GET WORKING!"

* * *

Well, how was that? Don't forget to R+R!


	12. Chapter 11B

I dunno what happened, but, for some reason, the end of 11 and beginning of 12 did not quite meet. The result is this chapter 11.5. Which I couldn't come up with a name for. I apologise.

* * *

"So, what you're telling us is; You know where the Soopreme Leaduh is.?"  
"Yeah. They're broadcasting from a location in the Sahara Desert. We can't pinpoint it exactly, but we can get you within a couple of miles. And from there, you should be able to home in on them with signal meters."  
"So whut are ye still standing about f'r? Go get everyone on those transports, and get them down there NOW! Styoopid boys...."

Numbuh 60 was stood in the main hangar bay of the Moonbase, looking down on the single largest gathering of KND forces since the Alamode. And they were on their way to an even bigger party. The transports had been arranged into rows, and the operatives had run down these rows, and onto the transports they were assigned to. No mistakes were made, because they could not AFFORD mistakes. Everyone knew that they were on their way to rescue their Soopreme Leaduh. And everyone knew that there was a time limit on that.

Numbuh 60 smiled, as the last of the Moonbase operatives got on their transports, and the first transports started to leave. All of these kids were heading for the Sahara, and any Earth operatives were heading there direct. If there was, at any point in history, a time when an enemy of the Kids Next Door had been more royally doomed, he had never heard of it.  
"Numbuh 60! Get ye styoopid backside in this transport, right now!"  
Numbuh 60 smiled, smugly, and turned back into his transport.

Numbuh 86 leaned over the pilots shoulder. "If ye can't get this thing moving faster, I'll decommission you this instant! Now get a move on!" With that said, she went and sat back in her seat. They were in the desert, flying along at a dangerously low altitude, at what was supposed to be the C.O.O.L.B.U.S's top speed. Somehow, the pilot managed to make it go even faster, and his co-pilot started getting worried at the sheer amount of _air _that was piling up on the windscreen.

"Stop!" shouted the navigator. The bus stopped, so suddenly in fact, that almost all of the operatives were embedded in the seat in front of them. "No what on Earth did ye go an' do that fer? Honestly, you boys are so stupid sometimes I have to wonder why we even let you into the KND!"  
Completely unfazed by Numbuh 86 (Which spoke of far too much time spent as a part of her personal flight team) the navigator merely replied "We're here ma'am. The Sky Mercenary base should be within a one mile radius." "Well then, fly us in a search pattern until we find it!"  
Here the co-pilot interjected. "I'm sorry ma'am, but the engines are wrecked. We must have overheated them, flying that fast, and the rest of the fleet have checked in to say that they are having engine difficulties. Apparently, no one thought to put sand filters on the air intakes."  
"Oh, I jest know it was some styoopid BOY engineer who was supposed to do that. Sometime, I think they may jest be joining us to stop us girls from getting all the work done!"

Whilst Fanny was informing the pilots as to why, exactly, girls were so much better than boys, Numbuh 60 stood up, and said to the remainder of the operatives on the transport "Alright, you heard him. We are within a one mile radius of the Sky Mercenary base. Seeing as how the ground is flat, we should be able to spot it from here. So, everyone, I want you on top of this thing, looking for it. I want it found, and us ready to go by the time everyone else gets her. And definitely before Numbuh 86 finishes lecturing those poor saps. C'mon, lets go!"  
With that everyone vacated the ship, and started looking for the Mercenary base.

By the time the rest of the fleet had arrived, the troops under Patton's command had established a forward operating base, located the enemy position, and set up a Yipper tournament. Numbuh 60 still had not finished lecturing the pilots.  
"Numbuh 60, sir?"  
"Yes, Numbuh 100C?"  
"Where is the Sky merc's base?"  
"Use your binoculars to look over there." Instructed Patton, pointing. The operative looked, and saw, in the distance, a small stone hut with a flag on it. The flag bore the logo of the Sky Mercs.  
"That's....it?" Patton nodded.  
"But, aha, it's tiny! W-we could take it with jus a sector!" With this, Numbuh 100C dissolved into laughter.  
"That may be what it looks like." Patton informed the agent. "But, because of that, it will surely be booby trapped. So, we will all charge it. That aught to do for any traps."

And so, the Kids Next Door swarmed across the sands of the Sahara. As they drew close, Numbuh 86 felt something, and ordered them to stop. 'What was that?' She wondered to herself. All of a sudden, the ground started shaking, and the sands started moving. Operatives were being pulled under the sand by the sector, and as they picked themselves up from where they had fallen, the KND noticed that a crystal had risen up, through the hut, and now the hut itself was starting to rise. Beyond it, they noticed more crystals rising from the sand. Horrified, they followed the lines, and found that they were encircled by slowly rising constructs. As one, the KND army turned and fled, trying to escape the slowly closing trap. The first operatives simply stepped over the line in the sand. Slower ones had to jump it. Even slower operatives vaulted the wall. But, when it came Fanny Fulbright's turn, the wall had become too high for her, or anyone, to jump. At ten feet tall, the walls stopped growing. And Fanny Fulbright found herself trapped the opposite side of the wall from her army, surrounded only by her personal retinue. On the far side of the wall, she could hear Patton trying to attain order. She wished him luck. Then, she spotted something happening atop the walls. Troops were coming out of the towers, and lining the walls. One of them wore a suit, and held a megaphone.

"Listen well, Kids Next Door! For this offer shall not be repeated! You have committed acts of treachery beyond comparison. But, should you withdraw from this Outpost now, we can promise that you will not be harmed. Those of your number stuck within our walls shall be treated fairly, should they choose to lay down their weapons. The choice is yours. You have – Urk!"  
With that, the Mercenary crumpled, and fell off of the top of the wall. It may have had something to with the well placed gumball to the back of the head by one of Fanny's retinue. And, judging by the cheering outside, that response had been well received. That was when the rest of the Mercenaries opened fire with everything they had.


	13. 12 Assaulting the Nest

I have had this written and ready for ages, but have been unable to post due to weird goings on with chapter 11. Now I can finally post it, as a Christmas present to all my loyal fans. Merry Christmas!

* * *

The KND were in trouble. The commanders of it had walked straight into an ambush. The rest was stuck behind a wall, unable to render assistance until they had overcome the walls' defenders.  
These defenders obviously consisted of some elite cadre of the Mercenaries, as they had highly effective armour, and were armed with what the KND Soopah Computer had tentatively identified as P.E.P.P.U.H's. (Pretty Effective Pepper Phlazer Utilizes Hotness). The Peppuh was a more powerful rifle version of the jalapeno pepper handgun. According to the Databanks, the Nerds were supposed to start enhancing that particular handgun in a similar way sometime next year. What appeared to be squad leaders were equipped with Bolters, and something else that Numbuh 86 wasn't quite able to see. Then there were the heavy weapons.

Not including the giant crystal constructs up on the towers, which didn't seem to do anything, there were lollipop auto cannons at points on the walls, and at each of the four corners of every tower, as well as in some specially made windows. Around each gate was set up some sort of chewing gum repeater cannon turrets. And, from special platforms on the castle itself, artillery crews fired a constant barrage of jawbuster shells. These detonated a way up in the air, scattering hundred of gobstoppers with each shell. And gobstoppers going that fast darned well hurt, as Fanny found out.  
"Get inside those towers NOW!!" She screamed, as some of those gobstoppers put bruises on her arms. As one, the KND turned and ran for the shelter of the outer wall, with the doors of their towers facing inside. But Gary and Darrell had prepared their retreat well, as the KND would soon find to their cost.

As the autocannons turned on the trapped Operatives, Numbuh 86 decided to use their tactical advantages to their, well, advantage. "Numbuh B-52! I want this place gone! Yesterday! Hit the wall to the north of my position, and the main gate to the south! GO, Ye Stupid Boy!!"

Numbuh B-52, a specialist bomber pilot, launched from Sector E's Treehouse, and, within moments, was joined by his bomber squadron. "Alright, guys. We've got a job to do. Remember, Numbuh F-16's guys'll be watching us, so let's show them how real birds fly!"  
With that, the fleet of custom painted Kolossaliners steamed off towards the now-imposing fortress of the Sky Mercs.

Whilst waiting for her aerial superiority to make an appearance, Fanny Fulbright had led her squadmates to victory atop one of the towers. To get there, she had first had to battle her way to the doors. Then, once inside and out of the scathing fire of the autocannons and assembled defenders weaponry, she had faced numerous groups of defenders on the various levels.  
First, she had encountered a squad of regular Mercs. They didn't last long. Then she had encountered a Tactical Unit. This consisted of about five Mercs in black clothing, in a dark room, who were equipped with P.O.K.E.R.S. and C.A.R.D.S. (Cards Are Razor Dangerously Sharp). Cleaning them out had taken about five minutes of walking through the dark, avoiding the whistle of thrown cards, and punching out any shadows that moved or were suspiciously darker than the rest. At various points were exits to the balconies on which Mercs with lollipop cannons barely noticed as they were pushed over the edge, with the odd comment of "Stoopid Boy!" or "Bliddy Eedjit!". The next floor after that appeared to be where the guards had stayed before rushing out onto the walls. It was, disappointingly, empty. Fortunately for Fanny, her next bit of Boy bashing proved to be a bit more challenging.

The last group of boys (not including the ones manning the turrets at the top of the tower) appeared to be some sort of berserker type battler. They had the weird type of armour that Numbuh 86 had seen some of the ranking Mercs wearing, and they all had rocket-skates and jetpacks. It looked like they were planning to jump straight into the middle of the KND army and either beat it or shoot it with their Bolters. Just as the first one had got up to go to the roof, Fanny had walked through the other door. "Oy, You! Stop right there, Or I'll drop ye where ye stand!" He turned round. The helmet he wore offered no view of his features.  
"Falcons! In the name of our Lord! Destroy the Treacherous scum!"  
Numbuh 86 groaned, and rolled her eyes. Fanatics. Of course they were. But, before she had a chance to do much else, she was flung to the ground by one of her squadmates who, subsequently, took the several Bolter blasts that had been aimed at her. Seeing him lie on the floor and smoke, Fanny Fulbright lost her temper, and started to rain a hail of fire at the unfortunate Falcons. Or would have done, had she not soon noticed that they were all enveloped in a shimmering cocoon which seemed to absorb all her shots. "Hah! You can't touch us inside our S.H.I.E.L.D's" (Small Hyper Intrinsic Energy Locale Deflector) "Falcons; let's have some fun with these upstarts. S.W.O. only."(Slashing Weapon Obliterates Resistant Dorks.)  
Numbuh 86 ad her team didn't need to hear it to know that, inside their helmets, the Falcons were all laughing manically. They watched with apprehension as the shimmering kids holstered their Bolters, and withdrew, long thin rapiers, all of which had 'Property of Bolton Gym' stamped clearly on the hand guards. These rapiers, however, had something different about them. It may have been that, when each Falcon placed his hand under the guard, the blade lit up with an eerie blue glow. Numbuh 86 had watched in horror as, between some of the blades that were too close together, huge sparks of electricity had leapt.

They leapt as one, all of them jostling for room to attack her. It was then that Fanny had a thought. Jetpacks. Rocket skates. Perfect for an open battlefield, but for an enclosed space like this room? Not enough height to use the jetpacks properly, as one Falcon demonstrated by lifting off, cracking his head on the ceiling, and collapsing to the floor. And infinite skill was necessary in the use of rocket skates, as some Falcons found out when they rocketed into walls, furniture. Some even rocketed into each other. Very quickly, the Falcons were reduced to a group of three people, one of whom had managed to get himself tangled in the candelabra. The remaining two consisted of the 'Peregrine' Falcon, and a young speedster who couldn't seem to figure out how to use his Sword. Fanny watched with glee as the speedster shot out of an open window, and was plucked out of the sky by a well-aimed volley of KND shots.

With the last Falcon surrounded by her team, Fanny decided to exact a cruel bit of revenge. "Now, I might not know jest what you're fancy armour ken do. But I do know, that something like that needs to be charging every once in a while." Fanny stepped forward and shoved her Musket in the Falcon's face. "And yours hasn't." She pulled the trigger. The Falcon was unharmed. "Aaaahahahaaa! You fools! Your pitiful weapons cannot penetrate my Shield! Surrender now and I might show you mercy!" The KND operatives in the room aimed their weapons at him.  
"Now, what do we have here? Hmm?" Fanny stepped forward and wiped a bit of mustard off of the Falcon's nose, and showed it to him. "Styoopid. Boy." "Oh, er, maybe we can come to an agreement? Please? No!!" They pulled their triggers.

Numbuh 86 smiled. That had been a brilliant piece of revenge. And now the she could see, in the distance, Numbuh B-52's bomber squadron, making its way towards the castle, to destroy the walls and allow the Kids Next Door inside. Then she would come down from the top of this tower, and personally go kick that Darrell so hard he'd wake up on Mars. Then she heard the high pitched whine coming from behind her.

* * *

And, seeing as how it's Christmas, spread some good will and give me a review, eh?


	14. Aerial Assault

Flying in beautiful formation, the KND bomber unit made their way to the Sky Merc's fortress. B-52 was smiling with glee. His fleet was doing fine, no glitches or hitches to hide from F-16 and his group of air jocks. It was around about this point that Murphy decided to intervene. Ten miles from their target, B-52 noticed it suddenly flash a brilliant white. Shortly after, there was a huge explosion from nearby, and B-52 felt his Kolossaliner get buffeted about by as if by a giant fist. Some of the less experienced members of his squadron were thrown into each other. However, the immediate concern was the explosion. Or, more specifically, the cause of it.

Checking his radar, B-52 put in a call to KND Tactical. Effectively the nerds who sat back at base and analysed a battle as it was fought. "Tactical, this is B-52. I need you to patch me through to the first member of my squadron to go down. Repeat, I need to be patched through to the first bird to lose his wings. Over."  
"Oh, hi, B-52, this Tactical. Putting you through now."  
*Static*  
"Pilot, are you airborne?"  
"No, siree. Boss, I just got my wings clipped good and proper. Dunno what it was, but it ignited the ammo, suh. Out."  
"Received."

B-52 looked back from his radar in time to see the target flash white once more. Then again. And another time. "This is bomber lead. All units, break formation, engage evasive manoeuvres, and hit full speed to the target. Prepare for heavy incoming AA. One-Hit-Kill. Repeat, One Hit Kill. Out."  
B-52 saw several of his remaining craft acknowledge and respond, the others were blasted out of the sky by what looked like bolts of electricity. Looking intently, he spotted one bolt heading straight for him. Without a second though, the pilot flung his bird into high gear, and felt the air currents push him even faster as the bolt shot through the space his ship had just vacated.

Then he thought; the radar didn't pick it up!_ Of course not. It's electricity, there is no object to bounce radar waves off. _So how do I pick it up. _Use the thermal scanners to see where the bolts have super-heated the air._ Brilliant! _Of course I am.._

Oblivious of the fact that that little conversation in his head, whilst taking only a fraction of a second, was quite enough to have him committed, B-52 proceeded to take his own advice, and informed the rest of his squadron. Immediately, he noticed a decrease in the rate at which they were getting taken out. But, the more ships hit, the more bolts were directed at the survivors, until his squadron was reduced to a core of five elite pilots, dancing ever closer to their target.

Finally, above his target, B-52 and his survivors managed to commence their bombing run. It wasn't a pinpoint strike, like they usually did. There was far to much AA for that. Nor was it a standard carpet bomb. The bolts of lightning ensured that anything flyin predictably for more than a few seconds was struck down. As it was, being so close to the source of the AA, the survivors were being taxed to the very limit of their skills. Wrestling with his vessel's controls, a distanced part of his mind noted the names of all four other survivors, and resolved to establish them as independant squadron leaders. It then watched, horrified, as, just as they cleared the worst of it, a bolt from the blue, struck the other survivors.

Clearing the target, B-52 executed a tight turn that would have made a fighter pilot green with envy. He was just in time to see the last of his bombs explode ineffectively, as it struck some invisible barrier a few dozen feet above the walls. He also saw the tail end of the bolt which had just impacted on his engines.

Fortunately, it was only a small graze of an impact, so, instead of blowing up, the engines simply cut out. Leaving B-52 in a giant tin can, headed down at a ferocious rate of knots, and headed forward (and towards an enemy base) at speeds which even he couldn't fully comprehend. The dial had stuck just the wrong side of a section labelled 'Back to the Future'.

However, in the split second he had before his ship hit Earth, he saw something wonderful. Right in front of him, with literally no lateral movement required, were the main gates to the enemy compound. Pointing his ship at them, B-52 began what is commonly known as a 'kamikaze' manoeuvre. The ship resisted his attempts at every opportunity, and so, despite his best efforts, the Kolossaliner impacted the ground a good twenty feet short of the gates. Fortunately, the momentum of it denied the possibility of an impact crater, and, instead, screeched through the sands. When it impacted the gates, they did not so much open as disintegrate, and several nearby tower crystals were shattered by flying debris. But the wreckage did not stop there. No, it ploughed on, through auto-turrets, and pit-traps, and even the stairs leading up to the keep entrance, where the bow of the Kolossaliner rested against magnificent engraved steel doors, which were now bent inwards and which no longer quite met in the middle.

There was a short silence, as both armies stopped and stared at the sheer devastation of the fortress defences. Then, with a rousing cry, Patton led his troops in a charge towards the enemy stronghold.

There we are! Sorry to have kept you all waiting so long, but real life got in the way, and I have been unable to contact my Muse. I make no promises as to when the next update will be, as I seem to only write my best late at night, and I am expected to be attending lessons in the mornings. However, I will try not to disappoint all you avid readers. Just review to let me know to keep writing.


	15. Incursion

Inside the main compound of the Sky Mercenary castle keep, the commandos were frozen in indecision. They were supposed to be preparing for an assault by a force which had only barely encountered the outer defences. They were not supposed to be under attack yet. But there was the hole in the front door, defying all their expectations by actually being there. Already, they could hear an increased number of clangs on the doors, as direct weapons fire was brought to bear on it. Fortunately, the commander of this outpost was not so easily defeated.

"Troopers, the main gates have been breached. Proceed to your assigned post, and prepare for enemy forces into the keep. Wall commanders, rally your squads, and proceed with the evac protocols."

The Sky Mercenaries out on the walls of the castle proceeded back into the towers from where they had come, or, in the case of those from the conquered tower, began the long, arduous journey towards the escape hatches. Inside the castle, Commandos sprinted to positions, many heading to the first and second floors overlooking the entrance hall. Others ran to erect barricades at strategic corridors, whilst all non-essential personnel swiftly relocated themselves to a single location.

Outside, in the castle grounds, the KND operatives watched as, one by one, each of the towers sank into the ground, shedded the crystal construct atop them (which promptly shattered into a million peices on impact) and then _launched_. They were in fact, rockets, all of them aimed towards a separate location.  
The sole exception to this rule, was, of course, the tower on which Fanny Fulbright was stood. For a split second, the crystal on top glowed like a second sun, and then tower exploded into a pillar of flame. Numbuh 86 herself was fine, simply scorched and launched a goodly height into the air, before landing (face-first, unfortunately) into the fairly unforgiving sand ('fairly' being in comparison to, say, concrete).  
However, some of her team had suffered some fairly nasty burns. So bad, in fact, that her squad's medic had seen fit to erect a triage tent in the middle of the battlefield.  
However, the rest opf her squad were nearby, awaiting orders.  
"What're ye stood around waiting fer? Get in there and kick his ass, ye stooped boys!"  
And, without another word, Numbuh 86 charged fearlessly towards the enemy castle.

Inside the main entrance hall, the assembled Commandos had relaxed to the sound of a constant hail of gunfire pounding against the doors.  
"So, when do you think they-"  
BOOM  
A large dent appeared in the middle of one of the doors. "-'ll think to use heavy artillery..."  
BOOM  
Another impact caused the top half of the door to shear off of its hinges and bent backwards. Small arms fire raked across the wall opposite. Commandos on the balcony sent a withering hail of fire back.  
BOOM  
The door shuddered open a few inches. As more Commandos ran to brace the door, a captain shouted out "Forget that! Everyone get behind the barricades!

With no-one bracing them, the next impact caused the doors to the atrium to be flung wide open, allowing the KND army the opening they needed to flood into the carefully prepared trap that was the Sky Merc citadel.

In a darkened room deep within the citadel, a shadowy figure watched numerous vid-screens depicting the battle in the atrium, and various hallways within the castle. Being broadcast through a set of speakers built into his chair were the sounds of Mercenary comms chatter.  
"Sir, the sandbags cannae hold 'em!"  
"Repeat, heavy incoming fire. Please advise, over."  
"Heck, there's too many of them! What do we do?"

Looking at the screens, he could see what the fuss was all about. Almost the entire KND had been brought to bear on this one tiny section of the castle. With that much concentrated firepower, the Commandos on the balconies were forced to keep their heads down, rendering them unable to help the ground floor troopers. Highlighting another video feed, he saw that some of the barricades had already been reached, and had only been cleared by activating the inbuilt defense systems.  
Speaking into his microphone, he began to issue commands.  
"Elevated squads, activate the auto defences and retreat to the evac site. Those of you who wish to stay and fight may integrate with ground troops at the tertiary barricades. Ground troops, stage a fighting retreat to the secondary barricades, and activate the defences behind you. Atrium defence systems coming online in three...two...one..."

As soon as they heard this, the balcony teams turned and ran, where-as the ground crews activated some auto-turrets in their immediate are, then fled into the maze of corridors that comprised the inside of the castle.  
When his countdown reached zero, two things happened. First, from the unknown heights of the atrium ceiling, a light shower of warm water came. This had the unfortunate side-effect of activating the 'stickiness' of the chewing gum floor, effectively trapping a fair sized portion of the KND army where they stood. The second thing that happened, was that almost every panel in the atrium lifted to reveal a turret, cannon, or launcher of some description.

In the control room, the lights dimmed further (that many turrets sucked a lot of power from the grid). That should slow the KND down long enough for the troops to reach the barricades. And when the KND do get through... He pulled out a conductor's baton and smiled. He would be directing the retreat every step of the way.


	16. The Trap Is Sprung

When the KND had finally got past the sticky situation in the atrium, they had hit hard, and fast. The first few minutes had been filled with so many orders to retreat, they would have taken the keep in under thirty minutes. Fortunately for the Mercs, however, their pace had slowed as the casualties mounted up.  
The commander grinned as he watched his strategies unfolding perfectly.

In a cafeteria hall, one door had a semicircle of sandbags protruding from it. Behind this circle were gathered a squad of Mercs, firing all their weapons at the KND pouring in from the door opposite them. With a deafening boom, more enemies started flooding in from the double doors to their left, and a protracted series of splatting sounds signalled the traps in the kitchens to their right, covering the escape of the squad stationed there.  
" Squad twelve, you are being flanked. Retreat to next barricade."

Grinning, the shadowed figure watched as a group of KND split off to investigate one of the doors that lined the hallway. Most of them were just empty rooms, however, this one, containing a ramp to the next floor, was not. He waited for them to enter the room, and try the door at the top of the stairs. Silently, he pointed at one of his aides, who hurried to push the appropriate button.

The team leader for this particular sector was silently congratulating himself on picking this room. He had found a way to get to the next floor, which, if insane megalomaniacal dictator law meant anything, got them closer to the boss at the top of the castle.  
Suddenly, the pillars at each corner of the room started spewing forth sand, and the ceiling started sinking towards them. What's worse, the door they came through suddenly sealed itself, trapping them in a room that was shrinking, and filling with sand simultaneously...wait... Here the trapped sector noticed something. The 'sand' pouring into the room was white, unnaturally so, and not nearly as course as they would have thought.  
"It's sugar! Everyone, eat for your lives!" The next five minutes were filled with the sounds of several kids practically inhaling sugar. The ten minutes after that were filled with the sounds of kids collapsing from incredibly powerful sugar highs. And after that, there was a click, followed by the kids snoring as they passed out from the following sugar low. The click came from the ceiling hitting the top of the ramp, and stopping. About two centimetres above the unconscious forms of several kids.

"Sir, enemy forces spotted entering the TeleVitae experimentation chambers. May we?"  
"Request granted. Make sure to lock the doors behind you. We want those things funnelled towards the enemy. All forces, be advised, TeleVitae creations are now loose in the Castle. Repeat, TeleVitae creations have been unleashed within the castle."

As the name indicates, the TeleVitae device brings to life creatures that exist on TV. The first thing to step out of it was a man wearing a suit and dark glasses.  
"Well well, Mister Anderson. What have you done now?"

The shadowy figure watched with glee as Smith swiftly overwrote all the KND troops within the labs, and went on a rampage through the castle. Zooming in, he quickly took a screenshot of one KND operatives' face as he rounded a corner and saw an army of Smith clones charging towards him.  
Slightly annoyed, the commander of the keep noted that, once enough damage was dealt to the Smiths, they would revert back to an unconscious KND agent. The problem there, however, was actually hitting them.  
Switching to another screen, he watched as every Street Fighter character advanced on the cast of Mortal Kombat, trapping one terrified looking group of KND agents between them.  
In another corridor, the Imperial Navy of the Sith Empire (on an infinitesimal scale), chased off more agents.  
And pity the poor scmucks who wandered down the corridor where Barney the Dinosaur and co were locked in an entertainer's duel with various My Little Pony and Fifi and the Flowertots.

Suddenly, the power cut out for a split second, before the emergency generators kicked in.  
Noticing that the KND had just entered a secondary power room, he passed this off and continued directing the staggered retreat. After some time, he ordered his aides to retreat to the evac point as well, whilst he continued with his duty.

Shortly, a broadcast caught his attention. It was a progress update from the evac crew.  
"Squad nine have just entered the warpgate."  
"What? Evac team, please repeat."  
"Squad nine have entered the warpgate."  
"Impossible! According to my battle map, they are holding zeta junction!"  
"I assure you, sir, Squad nine have most definitely entered the warpgate."  
"Very well. Carry on."  
Worried by this development, he began to analyse the battle map. His orders so far had been spot on, just what the troops needed. How could this be so, if his battlemap was wrong? Then...  
"Dammit! They've haxxored me!"  
Rushing to his console, he immediately began the reset function. Waiting hoprrible long seconds, he stared in earnest at the battle map. Squad nine's symbol vanished, and an enemy horde was seen pouring through the gap, heading straight for the central stairway.  
"All teams, all teams. Full retreat, repeat full retreat. Activate defences behind you. That is all."  
"Computer, initiate purge."  
_"Tech purge commencing."  
_Having done all he could, he sat back and waited for the signal that evac was complete.

"Well now. Just one styoopid boy left in his big styoopid chair. C'mon Numbuh 666, let us know where Numbuh 362 is, and I might just lock you in Arctic Prison for the rest of ye're childhood."

"Oh, dear, Fanny. Did you really think the Lord Admiral would be here himself? No, he just needed me to keep you busy for a while. He didn't want you finding these too soon." With that, the shadowy figure in the chair pointed at a stack of videos next to a screen. The videos were labelled 'Day 1, Day 2,' etc. The screen was showing the newest scene of Rachel's torture.

"_96%"_

"Aaagh!" Fanny shot the screen. "Where is she! I swear, if you don't tell me this second...!"  
"Now, now, Miss Fulbright. All things come to those who wait. And I assure you, your beloved leader _will _be returned you. A little worse for wear, maybe, but we won't have harmed her at all."

"_97%"_

"You..Stupid...BOY!" With that cry of rage, Numbuh 86 leapt at the commander. Only for him to appear behind her.  
SMACK! She smashed into the chair.  
Turning around, she could see the commander for the first time. He was dressed in a plain, grey, three piece suit, with grey gloves and an overcoat.  
"Now, I may only be a Junior Executive, but my position on the Board of Directors grants me certain perks."

"_98%"_

She leapt at him again, only for him to disappear and reappear some distance to her left.  
"And one of those perks is my suit. Nowhere as good as Lord Cain's, but enough to deal with trash like you."

Keeping an eye out around her, she made to leap at him again. The instant he disappeared, she stopped and looked. There. Just to her right was a patch of air, shimmering. Leaping at it, she collided with the Junior Executive just as he rematerialised.

"Oof!" Together, they tumbled to the floor, with Fanny landing on top.  
SMACK! She punched him in the face.  
SMACK! She split his lip.  
SMA- She paused. Why was he grinning?  
"I was taught never to hit a girl. But, I don't think this counts."  
Numbuh 86 was caught by surprise, as a pulse of energy caught her, and blasted her off of him.

"_99%"_

He started throwing lightning bolts at her.  
"Shocking, isn't it, how sparks can fly when we've only just met?"

Comedians the world over felt a shiver pass down their spines.

Dodging each bolt, and countering with blasts from her own Musket, Fanny herself felt ill at such a bad joke. Unfortunately, that was when her Musket ran dry.

"_100%. Evacuation complete."_

"Oh , so sorry. I wish I could stay and play some more, but unfortunately, times up. Thanks for letting my entire force evacuate safely. We'll have to do this again sometime."

Enraged, Fanny did the only thing she could think of that time. She took off her boot, asnd threw it at him. It sailed through the air, and landed bang on target. Right in every boys' weak spot.  
Smiling in satisfaction, she watched as he slumped to the floor, just before he vanished.

In the tallest tower, a grey mass appeared on the floor. Uncurling slightly, the JC issued a command to the computer.  
"Home. Full speed."  
_"Incorrect vocalisation pitch. Please insert command code."  
"D-Z-5-9-0"  
"Command code recognised. Proceeding."_

Atop the tallest tower, the spire-shaped room took off, and headed north at super-sonic speed.

"_Combat Report-  
North African base lost.  
Combat time – eighteen hours.  
Allied casualties – 15 minor woundings.  
8 Incapacitations  
0 troops lost  
Enemy casualties – Calculating...  
More time required."_


	17. RIP OP:BLOOD

Quite frankly, I will be surprised if there is anyone left to actually read this. That, of course, is my own fault – I haven't exactly been the most prolific of authors. Still, I am not the sort of person to leave 'on hiatus' signs on a story – if it's dead, I'll mark it as such. And this is the official tombstone for the story. I'll admit, writing this was fun, and getting feedback from people saying how much they enjoyed it was awesome.

Life, however, dislikes me. Or at least, it enjoys messing with me. Most of my stories, I wrote in the later years of secondary school. College applied the pressure, and something had to give. That something was my fanfiction (swiftly followed by my games consoles and my tv). University also hasn't allowed me time to put my few remaining ideas to Word.

Ignoring that fact, we also have the problem that it has been a good number of years since I have had access to the source material for the majority of my fics. How am I supposed to take inspiration from something when I am seeing no new releases, and no new derived works? So, unfortunately, I have seen other things, and sometimes been inspired by them, and have slowly lost contact with this fandom.

This work means a lot to me. So much, in fact, that I can't let it truly die. I know self inserts are a crime against fanfiction, however, in my future works, if there are any, keep an eye out for a military/government agent with a high level of reverence for his superior elder brother. You will know where they come from.


End file.
